


Would You Dance With Me, Annie?

by onemechanicalalligator



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Dreamatorium, F/M, Ficlet, First Kiss, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:47:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26089645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onemechanicalalligator/pseuds/onemechanicalalligator
Summary: Abed and Annie are in the Dreamatorium. Abed just wants to make Annie happy, and Annie just wants to make Abed happy.
Relationships: Annie Edison/Abed Nadir
Comments: 10
Kudos: 73





	Would You Dance With Me, Annie?

**Author's Note:**

> This is something of a songfic, I guess? It's based on [Poor Boy's Delight](https://youtu.be/hFGxaHV4vsY) by The Infamous Stringdusters.

Abed invites Annie into the Dreamatorium one afternoon, when Troy is away for the weekend and it’s just the two of them at the apartment. It’s the first time he’s asked her, though he’s been wanting to for awhile, and he’s pleased when she says yes. He tells her she can be anyone, Annie Edison or Caroline Decker or someone completely new and different, if that’s what she wants. She says she'd just like to be Annie, for now. 

He has a simulation ready to go, one designed just for Annie, and he gets into his own character: a poor southern farm boy, longing after the most beautiful girl in the room, working up the courage to ask her to dance. He thinks this is something Annie would enjoy, like something out of a Nicholas Sparks novel (or movie, for that matter).

They step inside and he spreads out both hands in the air, painting a scene.

“It’s a Saturday night.” Abed says. “There’s a chill in the air and an old fiddle tune playing. We’re at a dance, somewhere in the South, maybe.” He holds out one hand to her. “Would you dance with me, Annie?”

* * *

Annie hesitates. Her eyes are wide, and she’s taking in the scene, even if it’s all in Abed’s head. She tries to transfer it to her own mind, pictures a soft breeze, a group of people, the music Abed described. She tries to picture dancing with Abed. But she can’t bring herself to do it, can’t take his hand.

This is what _she_ wants, this simulation is _incredible,_ but what about what _he_ wants? This is Abed’s Dreamatorium, his invention. He’s doing a kind thing by bringing her in, and she wants to respect his space. She wants to make Abed happy -- she _loves_ making Abed happy.

She thinks she should offer a different simulation, one that he would like. She thinks she should thank him for thinking of her. She thinks he looks so good right now that maybe she’s lost her voice.

She doesn’t move.

* * *

Abed doesn’t understand why Annie isn’t responding. Maybe he didn’t set the scene well enough. Maybe she’s nervous. It can’t be that she doesn’t like to dance. He knows Annie loves dancing, he’s seen her do it plenty of times, and she melts at that scene in _Pride and Prejudice_ every time they watch it.

He doesn’t want to give up. He doesn’t want to change the simulation, because he _really_ wants to dance with Annie, to be close to her, to make her smile. He wants to show her how he feels about her, and he only really knows how to do that by framing it with something he knows they both might understand.

He watches her big eyes dart around the room, hopefully taking in the scene he’s rendered. He watches her bite her lower lip and pick at her fingernails. He wonders what’s on her mind.

“Is something wrong?” he asks. “It’s okay, you know. You can relax here. They’ll play whatever song you want. You have nothing to lose.” He reaches for her hand, tries again. “Would you dance with me, Annie?”

* * *

Annie still doesn’t step forward. She’s still stuck on the idea of making Abed happy, and also, she’s stuck on the idea of _Abed._ She knows she’s staring at him but she can’t seem to stop, mesmerized by his dark brown eyes, his silky hair, the small half smile on his face as he holds his hand out to her, waiting.

She’s tempted. Because she loves to dance, but also because she wants to be touching him, wants to look into his eyes. Because she wants to know what it feels like to be held in his arms.

She stays put because she’s afraid. Because she doesn’t want to do the wrong thing. Because she _does_ have something to lose, and it’s the friendship she treasures so deeply, and she’s not quite sure if she’s ready to risk it for what _could be._

* * *

Abed takes a step closer to Annie. He places a hand gently on her shoulder, and he can smell the floral scent of her shampoo. She turns to him, and her eyes are soft. She looks nervous, the way she looks before they take an exam or turn in an important project. He tries to make his face look reassuring, but he’s not at all confident that he’s successful.

He wants her, wants to be with her, wants to step and spin with her. Wants to see her smile, hear her laugh, feel her shake against him.

“Am I doing this right?” Abed whispers. He reaches over and smooths her hair back. “You’re so beautiful. Such a delight.” He turns her slightly, sets one hand on her waist. “Would you dance with me, Annie? Please?”

* * *

“You don’t have to do this for _me,_ Abed,” Annie says, finally finding the words. "What would _you_ like to do?" She takes a step closer to him, so that they’re almost touching.

Abed frowns at her words, but he doesn’t move away from her.

"Annie,” he says. “I wouldn't have asked you three times to dance with me if I didn't actually want to dance with you." 

He tilts his head and she reflexively tilts hers, too. That wasn’t the response that she was expecting. Abed usually has a pretty clear vision of what he wants, true, but it’s almost never the same as what anyone else wants. He must be doing this for Annie, and she’s not sure she understands why. She wonders if she’s reading too much into it. She puts a hand on his arm and looks up at him.

* * *

"I just thought…it's your Dreamatorium," Annie explains, and her voice is a little breathy. "We should do what you want to do." 

"We are," Abed insists. "Or at least I was trying to.” He pauses, feeling his self-control evaporate. “But if you want to know what I _really_ want to do…" 

Abed pulls Annie closer, so that they’re touching, and puts two fingers on her chin, tilting it up. 

"Tell me if you want me to stop," Abed whispers, hoping he’s not misreading things. 

Annie looks him directly in the eye, unblinking, and doesn’t say a word. He leans down to her, watching her face, the way her lips part and her eyes close. And then he kisses her, softly at first, and then more urgently as she leans into it and opens her mouth. She kisses back, deeply and thoroughly, wrapping her arms around his neck.

* * *

Abed slips his hands under Annie’s bottom and lifts her up, and she wraps her legs around his waist. They’re both breathing hard, unable to keep their hands and mouths off of each other.

“Bedroom?” Abed asks, unable to form a complete sentence.

“Uh-huh,” Annie gasps in response, and he quickly ends the unsuccessful simulation, carrying Annie out of the Dreamatorium and straight to his bed.


End file.
